I find it aggravating that I can’t seem to cross particular finish lines in my life. Myself as judge, I can’t seem to “arrive” at the winner’s circle of wife, mother, daughter, size 8, fulfilled career, organized home, organized family. Once, my eldest son was winning a relay race. He was so far ahead of his competitors that he was practically running alone. However, about 30 feet from the finish line, he jogged off the field. The people in the stands grew quiet trying to figure out why, he wasn’t injured, no signs of distress. Then, we realized he mistook a line on the track as the finish line and thought he was done. We began yelling “Get back on!” and waving our hands as if we could scoot him back on the field, encouraging him to continue. Thankfully, he realized what happened and hopped back on to finally cross the finish line.

Unlike the fixed finish line my son was running towards, I often feel mine keep moving away from me. Sometimes I get so discouraged I’d like to just trot off the field and call it done. However, God continues to encourage me forward. If I had a say in the matter, I’d be for crossing those winning lines as soon as possible so as to enjoy the benefits of the winner’s circle with no further delay!  So, in other words, I am all about the destination and less about the race.  Strangely, God is all about the race.

All my logic knows I will never cross the finish line exactly when and how I’d like to. Unfortunately, it’s that combination of destination and judgment where my thoughts tend to camp throughout the day. Of course, that’s the same place where insecurity resides, and I hate to admit it, but I spend far too many minutes of the day thinking about it. I seem to be in a race with myself.

Running a long race takes patience and perseverance. Unfortunately, when those traits were being passed out in heaven, I probably grew impatient with the line and decided to not persevere…

If learning patience and perseverance are God-delivered test (which, I fear they are), I also fear He keeps retesting while I continue failing. And, I can’t deny I contemplate with alarm He may have to continue to test me until …oh, dear, I don’t know when. This may be one of those life lessons that I learn by painfully small increments; progress will be measured in centimeters.

For a long time I considered the last testing of Jesus as described in Matthew 4 all about greed, but I realize now—my take on it, anyway—is it’s all about patience and perseverance. The devil offered him all splendors in all the lands, provided he’d switch his allegiance. The more I camp on this test, the more I disagree with my former assumption. I used to dismiss it to thinking the devil really didn’t understand Jesus like the rest of us did if he thought appealing to his greedy side for self-gain would be productive. The Jesus we know in the bible is never described as a person who could be bought with silver and gold. But maybe, it wasn’t that for which He was being tested. Maybe, it was patience and perseverance.

If you, say, loved people so much that you cried their tears, experienced their pain, provided healing miracles for those  who sought you out, wouldn’t it be much more a temptation if you could gain power NOW, resources NOW, access NOW to all those whom you could help? Could the thought of, “Imagine all those I could help right now if I simply claimed my Godhood?” cause you to pause? Jesus could have whatever he wanted and he didn’t need to worship the devil for it. Jesus could have chosen then and there to draw his own finish line and thereby administering help to the needy --and avoiding personal torture and death by achieving somewhat of the same (more immediate) ends but by different (and far less uncomfortable) means. That’s what Jesus could have done had he simply became master over his own finish line. But, instead of appealing to a personal agenda, He appealed to His Father's agenda—where patience and perseverance could not be avoided. He had to be patient for the events to unfold that needed to unfold on behalf of our welfare, and, He needed to persevere more than we could ever imagine doing so. Added to that, before reappearing to the masses, He even had to suffer the temporary judgment and disappointment from those who loved him while they considered he’d perhaps failed his mission!

Of course, Jesus, being perfect, and our example of perfection, did not falter. Not once. But I sure do. I falter every day when my expectations of life seem to collide with the will of My Father. After all, He tells me that the importance of my life is not about my arriving at all my finish lines, but about Him continuing the good works which He began in me, even after He calls me home. So, really, the only race I’m running is the one of patience and perseverance, not perfection! Everything else is simply distracting me while I run.

TB